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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761910">Give In to Your Vices</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMoreLovingOne/pseuds/TheMoreLovingOne'>TheMoreLovingOne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Powerpuff Girls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Human, Claiming Bites, Deal with a Devil, F/M, Marking, Ownership, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, light knife use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMoreLovingOne/pseuds/TheMoreLovingOne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless, unedited smut about a girl who just wishes to not have any responsibility and the dark man who will let her indulge in her darkest desires.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>HIM/Bubbles Utonium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Give In to Your Vices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was intimidated. Intimidated and intoxicated. No other words could do justice to the apprehensive yearning, dark and heavy, that pooled in Bubbles Untonium’s stomach. The room around her pulsed, fast, as if to mock her heartbeat. The partygoers around her seemed inhuman in the dim, club-like lighting. She felt like she was in a daydream gone dark. Lost in her head, the music and the noise had ceased to exist. It was just her, surrounded by other lost, depraved people. Her breath hitched. Was she really doing this? She must be, her invitation was now soft from sweat and the amount of times shed folded, unfolded, creased, and crumbled it. She bit her lip nervously, unfolding the invitation once again though she’d long since committed the thing to memory.</p><p>When you enter my home, make your way upstairs. The very last door, with a black rose etched into it. Don’t be late. I’m not a patient man.<br/>
-H</p><p>She shivered. She wasn’t late. She was fifteen minutes early, in fact. But she was so very scared. Swallowing, she decided to find a bathroom before she jumped full speed ahead into the lion’s den. She made her way to the edge of the dance floor, unsurprised to find expensive furniture pushed against the walls. She hadn’t expected a man of such impeccable taste in Victorian houses to turn his home into a rave. Finding the only room lit with a natural bulb, she slipped in and closed and locked it behind her. She looked in the mirror, not really recognizing the woman in the mirror. She was dressed so differently. In practically nothing. Black fishnets and the scantiest black dress she’d ever seen outside of a bedroom. Maybe inside of a bedroom too. And tall boots. She’d heard he was a fan. Her makeup was dark too. Nothing like the proper lady she was outside of this place, this meeting. She was practically panting, her cheeks flushed. She hadn’t even met the man and he’d had this effect on her. She shook her head, fidgeting with her outfit, shaking out her hair. Trying to look like she had more experience than she did. Like she wasn’t completely out of her element. Clenching her fists, she decided. She was going. Now. She couldn’t stand psyching herself out anymore.<br/>
Determined, she made her way out and through the throng of people and ascended the classical stairs that led to her damnation.¬ She still couldn’t hear anything over her own breathing. Amazing how a one track mind could block out enough people to fill an apartment complex. The door appeared before she was ready. She would never be ready. She knocked on the door before she could talk herself out of it. A low voice replied.</p><p>“Come in,” it said, the sound of it settling into her skin and making her feel ever hotter. She opened it, quickly, closing it behind her. Desperation filled her, to be alone and to be heard. To bare her soul, the darkest parts of it, to the elusive man who was so powerful people often dared not speak of him outside of hushed, hurried conversations in the dead of night. And there he was. His office was more luxurious and modern than she had expected due to the elaborate, old-fashioned nature of the rest of the place. But then, he was nothing if not known for indulging vices. That was, after all, why she was here.</p><p>He was tall. She knew he would tower over her if he stood. She don’t think she could have stood it if he had. He was thin, almost effeminate, in terms of figure, but lightly muscled. His hair was black and slicked back, but it looked so soft after you got used to looking at him. She longed to run her hands through it, to feel it on her face as she moaned into his ear- but not yet. She forced herself to look at his face, the strong masculine features and impossibly green eyes. The fucking hellish smirk that she had only fantasized about. He gave off more power than she expected. She swallowed again. He noticed. She knew he noticed.</p><p>He laughed at her, a chilling sound.</p><p>“Take a seat,” he ordered. No pleasantries here. Good. She tried to seem more confident than she felt as she strode across the lush room and sunk into the chair opposite him. Only one. His business was as private as she’d heard. His eyes followed her intently all the way until she was in arm’s reach. Then he released her from his gaze, looking down at a file open on his desk. She blushed as she surmised that it was hers. He laughed again as he read it, a hissing laugh that kept her on edge, kept her aware of how dangerous it was for her to be here, with him.</p><p>“Is something funny?” she asked, her voice giving her away by how shaky it was.</p><p>“Oh yes, very funny. Little mayor’s daughter. You know how much of a stereotype you are? It’s pathetic, really.” He leaned forward. His nails looked sharp. Almost like claws in the flickering, seductive lighting in the office. She resisted the urge to lean forward and check just how sharp they were. There was too much to discuss.</p><p>“I’m well aware of how cliché I am, thank you.” Her voice trembled again. She felt tears prick to the corners of her eyes. Crybaby, she scolded herself. How could she ask him to do the things she had come for if she couldn’t even handle a bit of name calling. Truthful name calling at that. After all, it was a stereotypical sex story at it’s finest. The good girl politician’s daughter, going to a sketchy man because she was tired of being good. But she yearned for it. She could practically taste it, spicy and tantalizing on her tongue. Finally getting to not care, to do whatever she wanted… or to have whatever she wanted done to her. Her body started to tremble like her voice. His smirk got a couple shades darker at the sight.</p><p>“You have my guarantee that I will keep everything you confess to me private. Same as any of the others I’ve helped lead astray. And you know if you try to tell anyone about me and what I do here, that you will never be able to show your face to anyone in town ever again, and also that I will destroy you myself for good measure. Correct?” His voice was all business, short and cold, but carrying a heavy, sensual texture to it that made her feel like she was going to combust then and there.</p><p>“That is correct,” she confirmed quietly. He drummed his fingers on the desk, just once, the staccato carrying thinly veiled, predatory excitement. She knew that the moment she revealed her desires, that he would be carrying them out. She also knew that there was a prize to be won in knowing her deeply. He would relish the power he would hold over then, with how highly she was regarded by society, with the perfect family and status to lose. And he would do nothing with it but savor the fact that he could. She burned inside, molten hot need filling her bone-deep.</p><p>“Good. Since we understand each other, I don’t see the point in drawing out the conversation. I’m sure we have more interesting things to do, don’t we sweet?” His voice was an enticing croon now. The almost effeminate quality came to him again. She grounded herself by clenching her fists again, digging the nails so tight they started to hurt then releasing them one by one. She opened her mouth to say something witty but suddenly his eyes were locked on hers again and her words died in her throat. “Tell me, darling. What dirty little secrets are you hiding?”</p><p>“I want to be owned. Coveted and possessed, not loved. Not needed. Kept but for no other reason than something to do, but also so nobody else can have me. I don’t want you to be sweet to me, I don’t want you to be needlessly cruel. I just need you to use me for a while. Use me and not let anyone else even think about it.” The words fell out of her, impossible to hold back. Almost compelled out of her. The relief filled her immediately. Not pretending to be perfect, to be sweet. He hissed between his teeth, which also looked sharp, excitedly.</p><p>“I was hoping you’d say that.” He stood, and she was right. He did tower over her. His own boots didn’t help. He came around to her, helping her up with a mocking gentleman-like grip. As soon as she was out of harms way he shoved the chair she was in out of his way gracefully. “Stand up. Let me get a look at my new toy.”</p><p>She obeyed without thinking about it, so lost in the euphoria of voicing her wants to another human, as elusive and underhanded as they may be.</p><p>“Don’t move,” he whispered into her ear, grabbing her face tightly and digging his nails in just a bit. She shook a little harder, closing her eyes. He circled her a couple times, looking her over. She could feel it. Suddenly she heard a small click and the point of a blade was pressed against the small of her back. She let out a small whimper of fear and pleading. In a fluid motion, her dress was off, tights and panties were in shreds on the floor, and cool air washed over her flushed, sensitive skin.</p><p>“I like the outfit. But I don’t think you’ll be wearing much around me.” He sunk his teeth into her shoulder, eliciting a small yelp. “After all, it wouldn’t do to have my newest possession covered up. Not if I want to enjoy you properly.” He spent the next fifteen minutes committing her body to memory. Occasionally he would bite her or touch her a bit more aggressively. Every time she responded instantly, instinctively, to his touch. Vocally and physically. She was out of her mind, the inferno raging through her body, making her wetter and harder where appropriate, making her more and more sensitive to his hands. When he stopped, she whined, practically panting for breath. She needed him. She was desperate for a taste of him, she mourned for not having had one already.</p><p>“You’re so responsive. I wonder, how long have you been craving me, sweet? How long have you fantasized about his night, waiting for me to claim you?” He twisted his fingers in her delicate hair, pulling her head aside and hovering at her throat. “Answer me honestly. Tell me when you knew you wanted to be my plaything.”</p><p>She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything he bit down again, feeling her erratic pulse against his lips. She cried out helplessly, wordlessly, and he laughed that same haunting laugh against her skin.</p><p>“Speak up,” he ordered sweetly. “I want to hear you. I want the world to hear you, to know that you belong to me now, and only me. I want you to know it, as you walk down a street or open a book. I want you to know that you’re mine. So tell me.”</p><p>“At least a year.” Her voice cracked breathlessly.</p><p>“’At least a year’ what.” He pulled her hair back harshly.</p><p>“At least a year… Sir.”</p><p>“That’s better.” He let her go, moving in front of her and gripping her chin tightly, forcing her to look at him, into those blazing eyes of his. He looked harder now, less graceful. In the moment, she could almost forget she’d arranged this. It looked like he wanted her more than she wanted him, but no. He was skilled at toying with people. Of course he would play the part perfectly. He leaned forward, torturously slowly, biting into her lip. Hard. She moaned in both pain and pleasure, her back arching of its own accord. His hands slid up from her waist to her breasts in one fluid motion, feeling her aggressively. He could feel her hard nipples under his palms. He played with them for a minute with his fingertips, barely applying any pressure at all as she squirmed at his ministrations. Satisfied with her reaction, he bent momentarily and bit one. His teeth were just as sharp as she’d predicted they would be. She flinched. It hurt, but it also soothed the deep ache that was buried inside her. Where she wanted him to be. She moaned again, soft and yearning, part of her unwilling to believe this was really happening. The sounds she made conveyed just how painfully, agonizingly, she needed this.</p><p>“I need you to use me however you want. Whenever, wherever. Please, sir..” She trailed off, barely able to speak for fear of breaking the spell she was under, the heady hypnotic pull of lust and tension, anticipation.</p><p>“I don’t need you to tell me what you need. I know you inside and out. I know all the different ways to touch you, to hurt and please you. I know the lines you want me to cross and the lines you don’t want me to touch. I know more about you than you know about yourself, right now. How does that feel?” He slid his fingers down to her hips, right against the spot in her belly where she could feel an unimaginable pleasure building. His other hand rose to her face. He dug his nails in close to her ear and dragged them slowly down to her chin. Her skin stung immediately, but the pain of that was just as sweet as the biting, the gripping. She wanted to feel it again. Her face felt warmer than the rest of her. Was she blushing in addition to the new marks from his nails? She didn’t know. But he didn’t give her very much time to think about it before forcing her to her knees in front of him and crouching temporarily to her level.</p><p>“Unfortunately for you, most of your little fantasies will have to wait. I can’t very well let God knows who downstairs hear you our first time. I want all of the sounds you’re going to make to be mine before anyone else gets the chance to hear them. They will eventually sweet, no mistake, but for now… Just while I break you in…“ Here he gripped her throat, hard, taking her breath away and definitely leaving a dark bruise for her to contend with in the morning. “I’m going to keep you all to myself. When I’ve made you perfect, made you mine so completely you’ve lost yourself, then I’ll let them hear. Maybe see. Never touch. I’m not much for sharing. But making others jealous, now that’s something I’d very much enjoy.” He released her and she gasped for air, looking up at him like he was the only thing that existed. To her, he was. She could see, hear, or think of nothing else but the way he looked down at her. He straightened then, and the sound of a belt being removed distracted her. Her mouth practically watered. This was it. She had to prove herself, prove that she was worthy of him locking her up and throwing away the key. He pulled his pants down just enough for her to have access to him.<br/>
She captured his cock in her mouth immediately, getting acclimated to the size and feel of it. She needed to be perfect, so he would judge her as a toy worth keeping. After getting to know it, she licked it, base to tip. Covering the whole thing in her saliva, so when the time came she could make it fit in her mouth. He seemed content to watch her do this, aware of exactly what she was doing, keeping a frustrating, smirked poker face the whole while. He cared so little that for all an outsider would know, he was just watching an amusing video on his phone. But this was just the preview. She had a lot left to give.</p><p>After one long, last slow lick up the length of him, she pushed him into her mouth. It filled her mouth quickly and she started sucking on it, hard. No warning, just immediately dialing it up to eleven. He hissed out a string of choice words, his composure breaking briefly. The thought of it made her glow with pride. Encouraged, she pushed herself deeper, choking a little, then pulling back. Learning where her limits were. Because if it were up to her, she would be doing this as often as possible for a very long time. His hands slid into her hair again, forcefully, but not forcing anything on her yet. She pulled back, circling the tip of him with her tongue for a moment, before immediately pushing herself back down to choking point. He growled impatiently, but still didn’t tip his hand. She did that a couple more times, sucking harder and harder, trying to entice him into doing something a little rougher. He knew she wanted him to, but he wouldn’t give in. If she really wanted to belong to him, she would take exactly what he was willing to give her, and when. He let her carry on like that, until he knew it had taken its toll on her. She was frustrated by his apparent lack of desire to take the lead. She was sweating from the effort, and her jaw hurt, and he still was in no hurry. What was he waiting for? She whined desperately around him, which made him laugh at her.</p><p>“Is that all you have, baby? How disappointing. I thought you wanted this. Don’t you want to be a good girl and please me? Don’t you want me to take pride in what I own?” He watched her, amused, as she nodded with a mouthful of cock. She looked like she was about to cry again, so earnest in her need to serve, to be claimed. He pulled her hair back hard. “Shall I help you then? Say please.”</p><p>“Please sir,” she said, muffledly around him. He rewarded her by thrusting into her throat, hard. She choked on him, and the sound was music to his ears. He gave her a second to breathe, then did it again. Her eyes were wide and she looked so obscene, knelt there, that he decided he didn’t want to stop himself. He fucked her mouth, hard, not for her own benefit but for his. He loved when people came to him desperate and in despair. It didn’t matter for what, though he couldn’t say that with her this wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted. Her earlier assessment had been correct. He craved power, and here she was giving hers away. He wanted it. Wanted her. Wanted to own her, give her exactly what she needed. But her fulfilment didn’t matter to him. His did.</p><p>He growled, deeply, making the fire inside her burn hotter and hotter. “I’m going to cum in your mouth for the first time. Aren’t you a lucky little thing? Don’t waste a drop or I’ll make you fucking regret it.” He forced her all the way down, burying himself impossibly deep in her throat, and held her there until she couldn’t help but claw at his thighs as her body fought to breathe. And with every thrust after that’s how deep he went, knowing he was hurting her but knowing that was exactly what she wanted. His breathing grew almost as erratic as hers and after what seemed like a lifetime to Bubbles, he snarled again and exploded into her throat, making her race to swallow when she already couldn’t breathe. She swallowed it all though, despair at the thought of disappointing him forcing her to follow through. As soon as he was done, he shoved her away from him harshly. She stumbled and without his legs as support her hands dropped roughly to the floor. She sucked down enough oxygen to soothe her lungs, coughing slightly.</p><p>“Get up. I’m not finished with you yet,” he ordered briskly. She stumbled in her haste to quickly do as she was told, in addition to still trying to catch her breath. He sat her on his desk, parting her thighs without a word. For a moment she was convinced that he was going to give her what she so desperately wanted, to fill her and fuck her until she passed out. But he had other plans. He dug his nails and scratched her again, from her cheek down to her breasts, leaving scratches and broken blood vessels all over. Nothing that would be visible in the morning, just enough to have her feeling it all night long. After her chest, he moved to her back, her ass, her thighs. Marking her everywhere with his hands. Pulling her closer, he ground against her until she was begging him to fuck her in broken words and half sentences, strangled breaths and sounds. But as soon as she started, he pulled away. She heard the same clicking sound as earlier and the blade was pressed against her shoulder blades. He traced the shape of a rose into her skin, just barely letting the blade touch her. A few droplets of blood bloomed to the surface and he licked them away.</p><p>“Did you feel that? That was me claiming you. Physically. It’ll take a little longer to heal than everything else. That’s good though. Whenever it hurts, I want you to remember tonight. Remember this.” He put switchblade down, where she could see it, looming threateningly. He could do anything he wanted to her with it. She’d agreed to that. She felt like she couldn’t take it anymore. He had barely touched her. She had done all the work. But she was close to breaking anyway.</p><p>“Please, sir… Please..” she begged. She begged for nothing specific, just for something, something to ease that deep-seated ache. He ignored her, her pleas falling on deaf ears as he started to leave little bites all over her already scratched skin. He didn’t bite over the rose, but nowhere else on her body was spared from the teeth marks and the little bruises that blossomed everywhere he gave a little too much attention to.</p><p>Finally he stopped. She sighed in relief, then whined in anticipation again when he shoved her onto her back roughly. He pressed against her, one hand at her throat, ready to choke her at any moment, the other pinning her hands above her head.</p><p>“Tell me what you want,” he whispered darkly, biting at her nipples again in turn, just to make it a little more difficult for her to talk.</p><p>“I want you to fuck me and to break me in, sir.”</p><p>“Right here? Right now, where all my guests could hear?” he prompted.</p><p>“Yes sir,” she breathed, sounding more pleading than she had the whole rest of the night combined.</p><p>“Why?” he demanded, squeezing her wrists hard enough to hurt.</p><p>“Because I’m yours! Please! I belong to you now sir please!” She practically cried, wanting and needing and yearning so hard it hurt inside and out. He leaned down so his face was buried against her neck. He bit her earlobe, making her gasp, before saying very simply,</p><p>“No.”</p><p>She collapsed, stunned.</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“No. I don’t think I will yet.” He let her go like he had never touched her, pulling his pants into place and looking remarkably like nothing had happened at all. In a moment the atmosphere changed. She was angry. She sat up, glaring at him.</p><p>“What the fuck?” she snapped. He looked at her lazily and quirked an eyebrow.</p><p>“Are you unsatisfied with our arrangement, sweet? Because I told you. It would be what and when I wanted. And I’m finished with you for tonight. Go home. Look at all the marks I left on you. Look into your pretty little reflection and know that you’re mine. Your pleasure is in my hands. There are robes you can wear in that wardrobe by the door. Go home. Get your things. Be back her tomorrow. I like to keep my toys close.” </p><p>And with that, he didn’t say another word to her. She swallowed her pride, trying to ignore the gnawing inside her that reminded her that she wasn’t satisfied, and he didn’t know when he’d let her be. And she knew that she had been right to come here all along.</p>
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